


Crash Course

by gothboobs



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Car Accident, Domestic Discipline, F/M, Rick sanchez actual spanking machine, Slight Nudity, Spanking, dubcon, mouth soaping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 08:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5490476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothboobs/pseuds/gothboobs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summer smashes Rick's ship and must deal with an intensely irate Rick Sanchez. When she disagrees with the punishment of having her phone taken away she requests a rather painful alternative.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash Course

**Author's Note:**

> I very much want to read about Rick spanking other people...and they say write what you'd like to read so~~
> 
> Many, many thanks to my sweet beta eastcoastlighthouse <333

She’d really done it this time. Summer rubbed her knuckles against her temples as she looked at the mess that was the front bumper of Rick’s spaceship. When Brad had texted her out of the blue asking her to hang out she had literally jumped out of bed and sprinted down the stairs in excitement, only to be disappointed that the family car was gone. Dammit…she’d forgotten her mom and dad were attending some charity dinner for Animal Rescue; they wouldn’t be back with the car until past midnight. But Summer Smith had inherited the classic Sanchez stubborn streak, and hurrying to the garage she was relieved to find Rick’s ship still parked within.

It’s not as if Rick had ever actually told her _not_ to drive his ship. And deciding it was better to ask forgiveness than permission, she’d grabbed the keys off his workbench, fluffed her hair in the rear view mirror, and taken off to meet Brad. Instead of a fun night out with her crush, however, it had turned out that Brad was with Jiro, and with Kelly, and with Marcus, and with Yang, and “hanging out” was really “watch me talk about my last football game as we sip lukewarm beers in the Hamburger Hut parking lot.”

Summer had left again for home in less than an hour.

When Brad had texted her while she was airborne, five minutes after she left to inquire why she had gone off in such a huff, Summer had taken her eyes off the windshield and her hands off the steering wheel to text back a very long and very pissy response. By the time she saw the utility pole, it was already crunching the front of the spaceship. She’d veered away wildly, taking out a couple tree branches, and slammed on the gas, thanking god it was late at night, and hurrying home before the noise attracted any attention.

Sitting down in Grandpa Rick’s desk chair Summer moved her hands from her temples down to her pocket where she grabbed her phone and opened up twitter:

@summer_time_fine – fukked up BIG time :( if I’m not in school tomorrow it means I’m dead tbh

Brad retweeted in less than a minute.

@Brad2daBone shoulda stayed ;) RT @summer_time_fine fukked up BIG time :( if I’m not in school tomorrow it means I’m dead tbh

Summer would’ve thrown her phone across the garage if it wasn’t literally the most important thing in her life.

She contemplated hiding out in her room, but what was the point? Grandpa Rick would _obviously_ know she was the one who crashed his ship, no point in trying to avoid him like a coward, I mean god, she wasn’t _Morty_. Summer angrily scrolled faster down her twitter feed as she fumed. How could she have been so stupid to think Brad wanted to hang out with her one-on-one? He was hot as fuck but also dumb as a sack of hammers, and she was beginning to question whether hooking up with him was worth all this trouble she was going through.

The sound of a portal opening to her right made her jump more than she would’ve cared to admit, and bending her head over the small bright screen, she willed her racing pulse to calm down. What was she nervous of? It was Rick! No need to be nervous. Glancing up, Summer watched as her grandfather strode out of the swirling green vortex followed closely by Morty. Her eyes suddenly took closer note of the family patriarch: his broad shoulders, the angular cheekbones, the easy, looping gait that camouflaged his true age… His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, flaunting the thick forearms mottled with random scars and age spots that ended in huge hands with long spindly fingers. Summer was suddenly nervous again.

Rick spotted Summer a half-second before he noticed his spaceship. He opened his mouth to ask why she was there, but when he caught sight of the mess of glass, metal and wires, he clamped his mouth and seethed as Morty gaped in astonishment.

“Daaaamn Summer, y-you reeeally smashed it, wow, jeez…H-how-how’d you even—”

“Oh my god, shut _up_ Morty!” Summer snapped.

“Hey, it’s-it’s not my fault you—”

“Morty, shut up.” Rick pushed the teenager away from the ship and toward the garage door. “G-go to bed, you have school tomorrow.”

“But Summer—”

“I’m gonna-euuhgh-gonna handle Summer, go to sleep.”

Morty whined through one last attempt—Summer almost never got in trouble, he couldn’t pass up a chance to see her get yelled at, “B-but—”

“ _Morty_.”

Rick’s tone of voice was magic; just one word and –poof– Morty was sprinting from the garage and up the stairs like a rabbit with his tail caught on fire. Summer watched him leave and then slowly turned her head back to look up at her grandfather: standing over her seated in his chair, with his arms crossed and an expression of barely contained fury.

“I can’t _wait_ to hear the explanation for this.”

Summer opened her mouth, but Rick halted her with his hand, “— _and_ if you lie to me Summer, I will know and I will make your life hell, so you better tell me the truth.”

Summer was about to roll her eyes, but then thought better of it—no point in pissing him off more. “Okay, Grandpa Rick, look, I’m _sorry_ , first of all, okay?” Summer clumsily gesticulated as she tried to describe the last two hours as generously as possible, “Brad texted me, you know Brad from school? Hot one, tall, track-and-football-star, _anyway_ , he’s like maaajor popular, and pretty nice, so he texted me, right? So I was like, _so_ excited, because it’s Brad, y’know? So Brad texts me, and asks me to hang out, and like inside, I’m like _yes ohmygod finally_ , but I texted back ‘sure,’ ‘cause, I mean you know what I’m talking about Grandpa Rick, you can’t seem too into a guy or he’ll just—”

“Summer,” Rick’s fury had been replaced with frustration, but he was still angry, “you have five seconds to wrap this up.”

Summer flushed, “Okay okay, I took your ship because mom and dad are gone until super late tonight, and like, I couldn’t pass the opportunity up, so I took the ship, and—”

“Summer, g-get to the part where you crash my fucking ship, please.”

Summer felt her face heat up even more. Dammit, she couldn’t avoid it any longer, “I left early because it was like, a bunch of people, _so_ lame. And while I was flying home…uh…well, Brad texted me why I left, so, I…texted him back, aaand…” Summer blended her words together in a rush as she tried to get it out, “whileIwastextingbackIcrashedintoautilitypoleandthensomebranchesI’msorry.”

Summer stood up at the end of her explanation, ready to run to her room, but the second her butt left the chair, Rick’s hands shot forward and pressed down on her shoulders, forcing her back down onto the chair.

He spoke through clenched teeth, “O-one more time… _how_ did you crash my ship?”

“I drove into a utility—”

“No, what were you doing while driving?”

Summer felt the words catch in the back of her throat as she attempted to respond, “Ahh…I was uh…texting?”

Rick’s glare was all-consuming, Summer felt like his brilliant blue eyes could see right through her, and it was supremely unsettling. She wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of his anger, and was beginning to understood why Morty was so jumpy.

Her grandfather’s voice was deep and dangerous, “Y-you were _texting_.”

“Yyyes…”

“While driving.”

Summer was suddenly annoyed; Rick was the biggest rule breaker in existence, was she really about to sit through a tired, after-school-special PSA about texting while driving!? “Grandpa Rick, I’m _sorry_ , okay?”

Rick straightened up and removed his flash from his lab coat, consuming the contents before setting the flash down on the work table and crossing his arms, “You’re not sup-eurpp-supposed to text and drive, dumbass, I know you know that.”

Summer shrugged, “I know, sorry…”

Rick held his hand out, “Give me your phone.”

The bottom of Summer’s stomach dropped out and she protectively put a hand over her precious phone safely wedged in her pocket. “ _My phone!?_ ”

“You heard me, hand it over.”

“But Grandpa Rick—”

“Summer if I-if I have to _take_ it from you, you’re going to lose it for longer.”

Summer slid her phone out of her pocket and gripped it tightly, “How long will you keep it for?”

“Two months… three, if you don’t put that phone in my hand right now.”

“TWO MONTHS!?”

“Summer, I swear to god—y-you a motherfucking parrot? Stop repeating me, gimme your phone.”

Summer held it partially forward, her mind racing, “B-b-but how am I going to let my parents know where I am?”

“If-if that’s a serious concern I’ll stick a tracking chip in you.”

“Oh my god, I’m not fucking Snuffles—”

“Y-you’re looking at three long months if—”

Summer reached forward and smacked her phone down into his open palm, but kept her hand wrapped around it as she angrily glared up at him. “This. Is. NOT fair, Grandpa Rick!”

Rick squeezed his fingers around Summer’s phone and Summer’s fist still grasping the thin square of metal and plastic. “It’s not fair to come home and see this mess in my garage!”

“Two months, Grandpa Rick? Seriously!?”

 

“Keep it up, y-you little fiend, it’s looking like three months at this point—”

“You wouldn’t do this to Morty!”

Rick’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at his oldest grandchild, “Correct, I’d be beating his ass at this point, but I’d still take his phone away for a week.”

Summer was no idiot, and this was simple math: no phone for _months_ , vs. no phone for a measly week. “When why can’t you just hit me and take my phone away for only a week then!?”

“I don’t _hit_ my grandchildren, Summer, there’s—”

Waving her other hand dismissively, Summer cut him off and held her phone tighter, “Spank, hit, whatever okay, is that an option? I choose that option!”

Rick sighed so long Summer wondered how big his lungs could possibly be to exhale that much. “Summer—”

“Grandpa Rick, come _on_!”

“Y-y-you _really_ don’t -eruurph- don’t want to pick that option, Summer, I’m serious.”

Rick raised his eyebrow, “I’m not letting you back out once I get started.”

Summer thought back to the handful of times she’d heard Morty’s distant voice from some faraway corner of the house crying and complaining as the steady drumbeat of smacks resounded in the background. It certainly sounded distressing… but Morty was a weak little bitch, how bad could it _actually_ be? Summer abruptly realized that Rick was silently watching her as she tried to work out her choices. As she peeked up at him she wondered to herself—had he always looked so… striking? His features were stern and hard but the bright blue eyes were beautiful, really.

Summer swallowed down her shame at considering her grandfather attractive and forced her voice to sound self-assured: “I pick that option…I don’t want lose my phone for so long, okay? Just do…whatever you do and then I’ll get my phone back in a week.”

Rick stared at her a moment longer before shrugging, “O-okay, sweetie, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

He began to pry the phone out of Summer’s hands as she struggled, “Aww, Grandpa Rick, let me just post a status real quick that I won’t—”

“Summer,” Rick easily separated the phone from her grasping hands and dropped it into one of his many pocket inside his lab coat, “I can’t even begin to d-describe how little I give a shit.” With the phone safely hidden away he grasped her firmly by her upper arm, lifted her out of the chair and began hustling her out of the garage.

“Ahh—” Summer clumsily struggled to keep up with his long strides. She realized she had agreed to this, but her nerves were getting the best of her, and as Rick led her to the living room, released her arm and plopped down in the center of the couch, Summer Smith realized for the first time that night she may have bitten off a bit more than she could chew. “In-in the living room??”

“Yep. C’mere.” Rick held out his hand to a suddenly-timid Summer and pursed his lips, “The more you make me wait, the longer you’ll be over my knee.”

Summer paled. She’d always assumed Morty was bent over a chair or something…she’d be… over his _lap_? A thousand thoughts ran through her mind, the most present of which was why the fuck she felt her crotch getting hot.

“Summer,”

“Sorry, I uh—w-won’t Morty hear??”

Rick snapped his fingers and beckoned her, “Summer, I know y-you’ve heard your brother get spanked before, and since you seem to be preoccupied with fairness, consider this his compensation.”

Summer tried to swallow, tried to force her pulse to slow down, tried to distract herself from the fact that this was about to happen.

“I—”

“L-last chance. If I g-g-get up off this couch Summer, you—”

Summer didn’t wait to find out. She dashed to where he was seated, standing within arm’s reach, unable to proceed further. Rick reached forward, and hooking one hand behind her thigh, pulled her to stand between his spread legs. When his hands moved the hem of her shirt away to unbutton and unzip her jeans it took tremendous willpower to not slap his fingers away. Summer simply turned her head to the side to look away, “This is super pervy, Grandpa Rick…”

“Oh really?” With sudden speed, Rick yanked her jeans all the way to her ankles and lightly pulled her forward. Unbalanced, she tumbled over his left knee, face-planting into the couch as he patted her bottom and chuckled, “I’m n-not the one with soaked panties, _Summer_.”

Summer groaned into the couch cushion and fidgeted at the sensation of Rick’s hand resting in the middle of her ass. She knew she was wet, but couldn’t explain it as sex was pretty much the farthest thing from her mind in this moment. “Ohhh, God…”

“You can just call me Grandpa.”

Summer had half a mind to kick her foot but worried it would look juvenile, “This _isn’t_ funny, Grandpa Rick.”

“Depends who you ask, Summer.”

She felt his hand lift and then slam back down, pulling a shocked gasp from her lungs as she grabbed the couch cushion in both hands and stared forward at the armrest in shock. She had just made a terrible miscalculation.

She would’ve preferred a few more seconds to digest exactly how much that initial swat hurt, but in the time it took her to drag oxygen back into her chest, Rick had already swatted her three more times.

“Oww!”

“Mmhm…”

She was being spanked. The realization was a weird one. Summer couldn’t remember the last time she had felt such a unique combination of humiliation, anxiety and physical discomfort, but she’d certainly remember this experience. She had already lost count of how many swats in she was, but she knew he had passed two dozen at this point, and the burn in her ass was quickly beginning to demand the entirety of her attention. Rick’s hand seemed as hard as wood and Summer embarrassingly felt her ass jiggle with every swat that landed.

It took her a few tries to get a sentence out, “How—ow! How-mmmf! Grandpa Rick! How long are you gonna spank me for??”

“Until I think you’ve learned your lesson.”

“Ohh my god!” Summer winced as another hard swat crashed into her, “Could you –ahh!- be more clichéd!?”

“Stop sassing me, brat; y-you-euurp- you’re only digging yourself deeper.”

Summer snorted at the name, “‘Brat’? What am I, six?”

“Certainly acting like it.”

Summer opened her mouth to snark right back, but an incredibly hard smack landed just beneath the curve of her right butt cheek, and instead of the sarcastic response she had planned, she threw her head back in agony, “SHIT!”

“Hey!” Rick grabbed her pony tail and yanked her head even further back as she wiggled over his knee, “Don’t u-use that fucking language when you’re over my knee!”

“It _hurts_! What do you expect!?”

“I expect you to behave yourself while I’m punishing you.” He released her hair and watched as she collapsed back onto the couch, pushing her face into the cushion and groaning out an incoherent response muffled by the upholstery. Rick paused and rubbed his hand over her already slightly red ass. Good lord these children had chubby bottoms.

Summer heard herself sigh with relief as Rick’s hand gently smoothed over her stinging, sore skin. She hoped he was done even though she knew full well he wasn’t.  

“J-just relax and b-be a good girl, al-euurgph-alright Summer?”  She felt him adjust her body over his lap and steeled herself as he gave her butt a few firm preliminary taps to perfect his aim. “Grandpa Rick’s gonna take care of that attitude problem…this has been a long time coming, frankly.”

Anger bubbled up at that comment and this time Summer did kick her leg in frustration as Rick started up again. The stinging, burning sensation in her butt slowly built to a terrible, throbbing pain and she couldn’t even think about other things to distract herself. Brad and school and homework and the newest episode of Real Housewives of Gazorpazorp melted away and all Summer could focus on was the singular experience of being bent over her grandpa’s knee like a toddler at the age of seventeen, and his hand, his blisteringly hard hand, spanking her bottom into a haze of pain the likes of which she had nothing to compare to.

“O-okay—” Summer sucked in a breath and grunted, her eyes wet and tingling but she refused to cry, “Okay, Gran-ahhowch! G-gran-pa Riiiick, I’m—I-I’ve learned my lesson!”

Rick paused again and rubbed a slow lazy circle as he peered down at the back of Summer’s head. “Oh? I d-don’t think so Summer.”

His tone was conversational, almost bemused, and Summer had to grit her teeth against her desire to tell him where to shove his head. “Pl-please, really, I’m-I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry!”

Rick’s hand stilled, and he wrapped his arm around Summer’s middle to pull her closer to him, “Summer, m-my intention is not to get you to say sorry over and over.”

Grabbing the waistband of her baby blue Victoria’s Secret panties, he tugged them to her knees as she wiggled and protested angrily over his knee.

“Pull them back _up_!” Summer was sure her face was just as red as her ass felt and she tried to get up but found that pushing against Rick’s arm pinning her down was about as effective as pushing against a brick wall.

“Settle down.”

Summer wondered about the command: ‘settle down.’ Could anyone really settle down in such a position!? When his next swat landed, Summer arched against him and hissed. She had thought he was already spanking her as hard as he could, but she now realized he must have been holding back because it hurt twice as much, and she knew her panties didn’t offer her that much protection.

She had been determined to take her spanking like a grown-up, but her committal to this was sharply tested as Rick smacked away behind her. Every swat made her gasp or groan, she twisted and danced over his lap, kicking her legs and stomping the floor with her toes, until finally in a desperate ploy to make him pause, even for just a second, she threw her hand behind her.

“Keep your hands forward, Summer.”

He moved her hand out of the way, adjusted her, and began again. The entire process took less than a second. Summer squeezed the cushion and scrubbed away a tear before it fell, _no_ , she was _not crying_ , she just needed to catch her breath.

“Please—” her hand moved behind her again, and when Rick pushed it away, she moved it back immediately, twisting her abdomen away from his side, bucking against his arm, flutter kicking her feet—anything— _anything_ to get Rick to stop for just a second.

“Alright Summer, y-you wanna fight me, huh?”

“Nooooo…”

“Move your hands away.”

“I just—I need just—just a _second_ , please, Grandpa Rick, I need—”

“The-the only thing you _need_ Summer, is a good—”

She didn’t wait to find out what he thought she needed and fought harder, flailing her arms and whining. When Rick suddenly held her down, shoved her hands away and delivered four insanely hard swats, it finally stilled her activity as she gasped hoarsely and grabbed his thigh beneath her, “ _Fuck!_ Grandpa Rick owwwwww!”

“What did-did I tell you about language, Summer?”

“I can’t—I can’t help it—”

Rick glared down at her, still squirming, her red hair pulled from her pony tail and falling in messy strands around her face and neck. He was impressed she had held out so long, but felt a pang of sympathy as she was ignorantly trying to out-stubborn the most stubborn man in the multiverse. He jostled her over his knee, “If I hear one more cuss come out of you, I’m-uurp-I’m going to wash your mouth out once I’m done here.”

At this promise, Summer twisted around and glared at him with a mix of fury and astonishment, “YOU WOULDN’T!”

She was adorable. Her hair was everywhere, flopping over her eyes and around the nape of her neck, her eyes puffy and watery and brimming but her cheeks were dry and flushed almost as red as her hair. Rick couldn’t help himself, his daughter and his granddaughter made him weak. Leaning over, he smoothed hair away from her forehead and gently kissed her before sitting back and fixing her with a deep frown,

“Try me. Swear one more time and I will scrub that bratty l-little mouth so thoroughly you’ll be spitting bubbles for a week.”

‘Fuck you’ danced on the tip of her tongue, but the gentle, affectionate forehead kiss had melted away much of her resistance so she turned her head back around and slowly lay back down on the couch.

Arranging her into position, Rick began spanking again, only to stop and sigh deeply as Summer bounced around on his lap uncooperatively.

“Stop squirming Summer, I don't want to miss and hurt you by accident.”

She snorted, “You're already hurting me on _purpose_ Grandpa Rick, what difference does it make!?”

Rick held her lower back down to the couch firmly and he rewarded her question with a few powerful swats that had Summer kicking her legs out straight and yelling into the pillow. “Your bottom can handle that—” Rick paused gave a quick rub and then spanked again as he continued, “If I miss and hit your abdomen or your back, I could injure you.”

Summer grunted at the pain again and huffed, more of genuine frustration than anger, “I caaan’t, -ahh- I’m-I’m trying, I c-can’t, I can’t stay still!”

Summer felt him shift beneath her and abruptly his opposite leg had swung around over her, and she could feel his thigh squeezing into her hamstrings as he grabbed both of her arms, folded them against her back and then held her arms together with one huge strong hand. The position was actually...comforting? Summer tried to attach a descriptor: safe? Protected? Cared for? If it wasn't for the fire in her ass she'd be very comfy...the only downside? She was completely immobilized.

“There we go, sweetie.” Rick patted her bottom gently before rubbing slow circles as his deep voice smoothly informed her: “G-grandpa’s gonna help you stay still, don’t worry.”

Summer tensed as his hand lifted, and when it smacked down yet again, she exhaled hard and felt the last of her resistances crumbling. _No_. She tried to struggle, but she was held firm.

“Summer.” Behind her, Rick sounded suddenly steely calm and the switch from earlier playful banter to a deep and serious voice caught her by such surprise she stopped fidgeting. “Y-y-you really disappointed me today. You’re supposed to be the _smart_ Smith, y-you’re the one I actually consider to not be a complete and total waste of time, and yet here I am, wasting my time paddling your ass because you decided, in your shitty, hormonal, lovelorn teenage wisdom to text while _flying a spaceship_.”

She opened her mouth to respond but all that came out were breathy exclamatory responses to each new swat that burned itself into her butt.

“Completely,” Rick swatted harder, “ _irresponsible_ .” He paused and rested his hand on her hot skin for a brief moment, “What if-what if you had died Summer? That shithead _Brent_ or whatever is not worth your time, never mind your _life_ , and you risked it to text him back!?”

Summer drew a shaky breath over his knee and pressed her face into the couch in shame, but Rick released her arms held behind her back to turn her head to the side and brush hair off her face as she looked up at him from the corner of her eye.

He looked annoyed, but determined, as if he had just found a difficult problem to solve, and by god, he was going to solve it.

“I expect that kind of ignorant selfishness from Jerry…maybe even your mother, but certainly not you, Summer. B-by the time I’m finished, you won’t even want your phone anymore.”

Her lips trembled badly and when the first tear fell sideways across the bridge of her nose to land amongst her messy hair spread against the couch, Summer finally surrendered and her damp sob was preceded by the first genuine apology of the night, “I’m –hic- I’m sorrrieee Grandpa Rick—”

“Mmhm.” Rick gently smoothed more hair away from her face, but his face was still stern, “You know you deserve this.”

She nodded, her red, teary cheek rubbing against her hair and the couch cushion.

“Go on, let me hear you say it.”

Earlier Summer would’ve scoffed at such childish query-and-response, but the last bit of rational thought left in her compelled her to try and save as much damage to her backside as possible. “I—I deserve thisss—sniff-G-grandpa Rick,”

Rick tucked her close to his side, “I know baby girl, it’s okay…I’ll-I’ll take care of you.” His next smack was rewarded with a long, distressed groan from his granddaughter as she began to cry in earnest over his knee.

He would never stop. Summer was sure of it. She stared forward at the back of the couch, her arms scrambling across the cushion, alternating between hanging on for dear life, and scrunching into her hair in agony. It was a relief to cry, and she was _sobbing_ . Her chest shuddered with the effort, her hair was wet, the couch was wet, her nose was full of snot and _still_ Rick spanked her. She could hear herself talking but was only half-aware of her chatter—mostly ‘sorries,’ and ‘so sorries,’ and general promising that she would never ever ever text and drive again. She was so preoccupied with feeling sorry for herself, that when another hard hit caught her by surprise, and “Owwwwww— _fuck_!” slipped out, she didn’t realize she had sworn again until she noticed Rick had stopped spanking.

“OH NO! Nooo! No-no-no, G-gran’pa, _please_! I didn’t—please, re-really, I didn’t—”

“I warned you, Summer.” Rick sounded sympathetic, but unyielding; “After this we’re heading right to the bathroom.”

It was a promise, and Summer couldn’t focus her brain enough to plead for leniency, so she pushed her face into the pillow and yelled her displeasure as Rick returned to spanking. She bawled until she was out of breath, and then she gasped and sucked wind until she could bawl again.

When he finally stopped and rested his hand once more on her blazingly painful bottom, desperate for affection, Summer flung her hand to his side where she grabbed his lab coat and squeezed it in her fist, staring up at him through her tears and snot and messy hair, “Ri -hahhh-sniff- Rick…?”

“Yes, sweetie?” Rick took her hand from his lab coat and brought to his mouth where he gently kissed her knuckles.

She’d meant to ask him if she was finished, but when she opened her mouth, out tumbled a very childish, “It h-huuurrrts!”

“I know, baby. We’re almost done.” Rick gave her a good smack and rubbed it in, “Can you t-tell me why you’re getting a spanking?”

True to her status as the smart Smith, Summer already had the correct answer ready to spit out and end her torment: “I took your –sniff- shi-hiip without asking, an-an I, -sniff- was like texting and driving and crashed, and I wuh-was irresponsible, and dissa-p-pointed youuu.”

“There’s my smart girl,” Rick swatted again, gentler, genuinely proud of the little redhead in his lap, “Do you have something else to say?”

“I’m sorryyyy! I’m sorry, Grandpa Rick!”

“Okay baby alright,” Rick helped her wobbly, limp body up from his lap, before hooking his arm beneath her knees and lifting her into his arms, avoiding direct contact with her intensely sore ass. She flung her arms around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder, heaving out the last few sobs she had left as he rubbed her back soothingly.

Rick smelled like whiskey and rubbing alcohol and sweat, but Summer pressed her face into him and breathed him in, feeling a tranquil warmth rise in her chest as her crying slowed and she listened to Rick hum a Spanish pop song against her hair, now completely pulled out of her pony tail.

“Do…” Summer rubbed her nose against his collarbone, “Do you think I c-can go to my room now?”

“After I finish washing your mouth out, yes.”

“Nooo…”

“Did you think I’d f-forgotten, Summer?”

Summer leaned back in his lap to look at him and pout, “I promise I won’t do it again!”

“I know you won’t.” Rick helped her to her feet and standing up himself, he held his hand out, “C’mon sweetie, l-l-let’s get this over with, and –euurghh– then you can go lay down.”

Sighing in defeat, Summer put her hand in his and awkwardly shuffled along after him, her pants and panties bunched around her knees, concern for modesty long gone. With every step she took her ass painfully throbbed, and by the time they reached the bathroom, she was already whimpering once again.

Closing the door behind them, Rick stood her against the sink, and grabbing the bar of soap, first he washed and rinsed his hands, and then with the bar of soap still wet, he re-lathered up his hands. Putting the soap back, he rinsed his left hand, and patted it dry on his shirt before turning to an extremely apprehensive Summer.

“Open up.”

Summer’s lips parted just enough for a long whine to escape.

“Summer c’mon, mouth open, don’t make me wait.”

When Summer finally opened her mouth wide enough to appease him, Rick grabbed her chin with his dry hand, and fixed her with a fierce glare, “If you bite me, we will go back downstairs and start all over again, do you understand me?”

“Yeaass--I won't! I _wouldn't_!” Summer frowned at the mere suggestion and then with the most subtle of eyerolls that Rick chose to ignore, dropped her jaw and opened her mouth.

Satisfied, Rick crammed the first three fingers of his soapy hand into her mouth. She gagged hard and on instinct, tried to pull back, but with his other hand, he held her head still as he vigorously moved his fingers in and out, scrubbing her tongue, the roof of her mouth, and the insides of her cheeks. Finally removing his hand, he closed her jaw and held her firmly.

“K-keep that in your mouth for a moment and listen very carefully.”

Summer whined through her closed mouth, and a few fat, pitiable tears rolled down her still-damp cheeks.

Rick counted off on his hands, “When you are over my knee getting spanked, no –eruup- swearing, no reaching your hands back, and no t-telling me to slow down or stop.”

Summer nodded hard, pleading with her eyes that Rick let her spit the soap out.

“If-if you cuss again Summer, I’ll make you sit in here with the bar in your mouth for ten minutes.”

Summer nodded again; she’d agree to anything at this point. Between her fiery ass, her mouth disgustingly full of soapy saliva, and a raging headache from crying she wasn’t sure how much longer she could tolerate the simple act of standing.

“Alright, c’mere.” Rick pulled her in front of the sink, held her hair back, and let her bend over and spit.

“Bleahh, goddamn that's gross, ughh—” Summer spat again, and then kept spitting until she had no saliva left in her mouth.

Rick handed her a tiny paper cup of water, “Y-you can rinse _once_.”

Gratefully snatching the cup, she swirled the water in her mouth as much as possible, trying to erase the horrible, acrid taste of soap in her mouth away, before spitting it into the sink. She could still taste soap. She could smell it, and taste it on her tongue, on her teeth, on her gums behind her lips, “come _on_ , really only once?”

“Only once.” Rick steered her from the bathroom as she griped, to her bedroom.

Upon seeing her bed, Summer collapsed face down and sighed into her comforter. She could hear Rick moving around her room but she barely cared.

“C’mon, Summer.”

She looked up to where Rick was standing beside the bed, holding out the pajamas she’d left tossed onto a chair on the other side of the room. Too lazy and sleepy to care, she rolled over onto her back, kicked off her jeans and slid into her shorts, hissing as they touched her bare skin, before lifting her shirt over her head, and throwing it over to her bureau. She had enough modesty and pride to turn and unhook her bra before pulling her t-shirt on, but as soon as Rick sat down on the bed beside her, her illusion of adult integrity vanished, and like a kid she crawled up against him and laid her head in his lap.

“You know, Grandpa Rick… I won’t be able to sit in class tomorrow.”

“Good.”

Summer turned and pressed her face against his thigh and huffed, “You spank like, _really_ hard.”

Rick chuckled above her, and she felt him smooth her hair back, scratching her scalp lightly with his fingertips as she pouted in his lap. “So I’ve been told.”

Pulling a blanket up to cover most of her, Summer looked up from the corner of her eye at Rick, “Can you… stay till I fall asleep?”

“Mmhm.” Rick patted his labcoat, “D-did you want to update your status, or-wha-euugh-whatever?”

Summer shook her head against him, “Nah, I don’t want my phone.”


End file.
